Two Sides of a Flame
by PureVampWolf24
Summary: I was so happy when Finnick won. It didn't matter that 23 other tributes wouldn't go home, wouldn't see their families again, wouldn't ever smile at them. The only thing that mattered to me at that moment in time was that I would see him again.


**A/N: Right, this is based on the song 'Playing With Fire' by N-Dubz. I was listening to it and had a 'lightbulb moment!'. So... this is my first Annie/Finnick one-shot (I say that apprehensively as my one-shots never stay just that) and I shall need reviews. You want me to get better, right? Annie's POV. Enjoys! xx**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, or any of the characters.**

_I tried to believe every word of your sweet story_

_But intuition keeps telling me_

_You're making a fool outta me_

- 'Playing With Fire' by N-Dubz

He's gone again.

It feels so cold here without him, without his strong body next to mine. I can still recall what he said to me at least six hours ago - "I'll be back home soon, Annie. Don't you worry that pretty little head. I promise. Soon, okay? Soon."

I tried really hard to believe him. I really did.

It's hard not to give in to the dread. It always threatens to spill over when he leaves me, when I'm on my own. I suppose I think that when he doesn't come home, he's hurt. Dying or dead. Seeing him in the games did that. It was crushing. Finnick was my whole life - he still is - and without him I failed to have meaning. No one would have missed me if I simply died. Several times I fainted due to stress. And malnourishment.

Why on Earth would I do something so trivial as eat when the only man I'd ever loved was being threatened at knifepoint? It all just seemed so silly.

I was so happy when Finnick won. I saw him kill that last tribute, hear her scream as he ended her life. It didn't matter that she wouldn't go home, that she wouldn't see her family again, wouldn't ever smile at them. The only thing that mattered to me at that moment in time was that I would see my Finnick again.

But he was so different. I don't know why or even if I expected him to be the same, especially after what he'd seen, what he'd _done_... but he was just so cold and distant and I really needed him to be there -

If he wasn't there, I would find someone was. I would find someone who wanted to be near me. I would find someone who wanted me.

His eyes were just a shade darker than Finnick's. His hair was almost silver it was so blond. He was thin, but had a certain aura of strength that either scared you or comforted you.

I suppose that's what drew me to him in the first place.

Yes, I cheated. But that was one time; I managed to justify it to myself by thinking of all the times Finnick hadn't come home on 'business'. All the times I'd got a quick peck on the cheek and watched him walk out the door, pulling his jacket closer around his slight frame. It wasn't so despicable that I slept with someone else, once, when he was doing God knows what behind my back all the time, was it?

And he thought I didn't know.

It hurt.

Hurt to remember. Hurt to think. So I figured it was better not to. Think, I mean. If I seemed beyond help, people would stop giving me those pitying looks. Like they cared. As if they gave a damn about anything else but their own stupid lives. Their own problems.

I ignored the whispers. The cruel twists of mouths as I walked by.

To them, I was 'the victor's whore'.

Before the Games, I had just been 'Annie Cresta'. I had been Finnick's, yes - I suppose I still was in some sick way - but I was also the girl you saw in the market; the girl down at the docks, laughing with the kids that roamed the streets.

Now... well, I don't know what I am.

I eat, sleep. Nod, shake.

Smile.

Whenever I feel broken, I smile. I find it helps - when people see you smiling they think you're okay. They _tell_ themselves you're okay. They don't try to 'help'. _None of their business_. That's what they think.

I get by. I remind myself that it could be worse; Finnick could be dead - I could be alone. As long as I know he's safe. All that matters is that he still loves me.

And he does. I'm sure he does. Yes, he's gone every day and I don't know know where to. I hear him say things that _my _Finnick would never say.

But he's not mine, not really. He belongs to the Games as a victor.

A hardness comes over me sometimes.

I don't like being seen as a fool.

One day, the roles will be reversed.

I know.

**A/N: I don't like the ending, but... all I ask is that you review. xx 3**


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